


Set in Stone

by nessandrie



Category: Sleepy Boys Inc
Genre: Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessandrie/pseuds/nessandrie
Summary: today's the last time he visits. for real. that's what he keeps telling himself.maybe if he keeps saying it, it will come true.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 246





	Set in Stone

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this months ago, but my friends asked me to post it so they could read it
> 
> based off of a piece by @ardorserenity__ on twitter
> 
> https://twitter.com/ardorserenity__/status/1285260518324948994?s=20

There it stood, stoic and proud, leaving Tommy in the dark at its base as the sun set. He scanned it carefully, almost frantically, although he hardly needed to. He knew the monument all too well. 

“Hey Techno.” He began hesitantly.  
  
Why had he come here again tonight? Maybe it’s because it’s what he always did. Maybe it’s because he didn't want to forget it. Maybe it’s because he knew he wouldn’t be coming back.

_\---------  
TECHNOBLADE _ _  
_ _thank you for protecting sleepytwt_

_\---------_

  
  
Attached to the base of the statue was a silver plaque, a bit weather-worn but still legible. The callouses decorating his fingertips told the stories of how long he had spent tracing each word, each letter, until their meanings were lost, jumbled into nothing but grooves, lines and curves.

Why did lines and curves hurt so much?

“We made it to dodgebolt today, me, Phil, Tubbo and Eret. Although we didn’t win. The Purple Pandas did.” Tommy glanced up at the statue’s face, a weak smile crossing his features. “Funny, innit?”

Along the sides were the messages their friends had left, drawn onto the stone like a memory etched into one’s heart. Tommy hadn’t left one.

_You did good, son._

- _Philza M._ _  
_ _  
_

  
His finger found its familiar spot and started tracing. “You know, I’ll be competing on my own again soon. Phil has said he no longer has any free time to play or practice, even after I asked really _really_ nicely. And Wilbur stopped participating after…” The boy trailed off, digging his finger in harder.  
  
“No matter how many teams I’m a part of,” his voice grew shaky. He glanced up at the crown on the statue's head, a muted dull grey compared to the shining vibrant gold one that had been left on his doorstep all those nights ago. 

“I don’t think anything will ever top the Purple Pandas.” 

Faint traces of red began to stain the grooves.

“Our Purple Pandas.” _  
  
_

_I miss you._  
_-Wilbur S._


End file.
